


You Taste Like Whiskey When You Kiss Me, Oh

by SAMC_Inc



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Almost smut, Lady GaGa - Freeform, Love Affair, M/M, You and I, im bad at tags, ziall, ziall smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:36:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5631847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SAMC_Inc/pseuds/SAMC_Inc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn has had six years to get over this, over Niall, but when the blond shows up it's all Zayn can do not to lose it</p><p>Or better yet, the time Zayn works a night behind the counter at his bar and Louis stops in. Niall comes too, and Zayn is forced to remember the past, lost love, and why he absolutely cannot stand Niall Horan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Taste Like Whiskey When You Kiss Me, Oh

**Author's Note:**

> This one was written by me (Alan) a long ass time ago (I didn't edit it because I didn't want to alter the year old gem so I've gotten a lot better and learned some grammar things JUST READ FOR CONTENT OKAY BECAUSE IT'S A GOOD ONE)

Music thrummed from the subwoofers placed strategically throughout the joint, the bass rattling the bones of anyone who drew too near the powerful speakers. Drunk bodies swayed back and forth, people milling around from place to place aimlessly, looking for a temporary home or another mouth to kiss. Zayn settled into his usual spot behind the counter, rolling the sleeves of his white button up before wrapping the black apron around his waist. The bartender that had been working before him had asked for the evening off, wanting to spend it with his girlfriend. Liam was one of the people Zayn had hired straight away when he’d opened the place, a close friend of his since the beginning of his business. It was his birthday that night, so how could Zayn deny him the request? He didn’t mind mixing drinks, in fact he rather enjoyed it, and he knew that if the rolls were reversed, Liam would let him leave. 

He adjusted the tie around his neck, making sure the clip was in place to keep it from flying around. There were already people waiting for him, tapping their feet impatiently as they waited to be served. He neared the counter then, hands clasped and a smile on his face. Two gin and cokes, one manhattan, and three fruity cocktails that seemed to be the favorite for the evening. The people kept coming, so Zayn kept working, not even bothering a glance at the clock. It wasn’t until a familiar mop of scraggly brown hair and a flash of cerulean blues slid onto a stool nearby that Zayn broke from his trance. 

“Martini, dry please,” Louis mumbled, grinning cheekily at the younger man. Zayn nodded silently, fixing the drink to the brunettes liking before sliding it his direction. He leaned his elbows against the sticky countertop, drawing closer to the man hiding behind the smirk.

“You, sir, have a habit of showing up at the most unlikely of times,” Zayn chuckled, swiping a loose strand of hair from his eyes. The blue eyed man smiled devilishly, raising his brows before tilting the glass against his lips.

“Sometimes a man just needs an alcoholic beverage made to his liking; besides, did you really think I would miss the sixth anniversary of you opening this dump?”

Zayn laughed, gazing around the building haphazardly. He’d be lying to say that he’d forgotten, because this was a day that had changed his life. Opening the bar was simultaneously one of the greatest and worst things that had ever happened to him. Yes it had given him something to focus on and work for all these years, but it had kept him away from other things. Zayn’s heart was bigger than his chest, and sometimes that meant he covered for his employees on holiday’s, or when one of their relatives was sick. Without trying, he’d missed a lot of important events in his own family’s life, and failed to create any of his own. Being around tipsy people all of the time didn’t exactly lead to any solid relationships, but it did lead to a lot of hookups and broken hearts. There was one time that things had seemed to start going his way, but he tried not to think about it.

He’d have to take three days off just to get over the pain of it a second time.

“So how’ve you been,” Zayn asked, preparing another round of drinks for a group of girls that were trying to stick around and flirt with him. Louis shot them a rather convincing glare.

“I’ve been pretty good actually,” he chuckled, clearly nibbling on a secret. Zayn cocked a brow cautiously, waiting for the other man to spill the beans. The raven haired man watched as the older adopted a blush onto his cheeks, raising his left hand carefully to show off a simple silver band in a very special place. 

“No! Is that-did he-“

“He did,” Louis laughed, “Harry proposed during our holiday in Barcelona. It was on the beach, very romantic. It was also probably one of the cheesiest things that man has ever done, but hey, I’m not complaining.”

Zayn congratulated the older man, inquiring as to any plans they had made so far. Both men had agreed on getting married as soon as possible, and arrangements were already being made for sometime in early November. He listened to Louis gush about flower arrangements and color palettes as he continued to prepare beverages for anyone who came up, the time ticking steadily away as the blue eyed man rambled on and on. Eventually Louis realized that he’d done that thing again, that thing where he doesn’t shut up and let’s Zayn get away without talking for a unnecessarily long period of time. That was part of the reason they’d been such great friends for so many years; Louis filled the awkward silences in such a magnificent way that Zayn had no choice but to sit back and admire him. It made the older man feel bad though, he knew Zayn didn’t have much to say, but he sometimes forgot that the amber eyed man did have a voice. He cleared his throat decidedly.

“What about you,” Louis tried, “any particular interests in the field of love?”

Zayn chuckled lightly, shooting the older man a steady glare as he moved to prepare another drink. Everyone even mildly close to Zayn knew he didn’t do romance, he did brief affairs and crushed hopes. Every girl he’d met so far threw themselves at him, and instead of making him feel attractive or powerful, it had the opposite effect. It didn’t help that every time he woke up next to some stranger, he had a split second of hope that it was someone else.

That was six years ago, he reminded himself. 

Louis dropped the subject quickly, filling the silence as if it had never been there with talk of his latest travels. Zayn was only half listening while the other half of him wandered into a daydream. He was off in his own little world, somehow managing to fix beverages and nod at the appropriate moments as he pictured a place where he could escape to. It was in the middle of the crowd, the music vibrating his chest as he swayed to the beat, dancing alone as strangers milled about him. That’s all he wanted, to no longer be trapped behind an apron and a skinny black tie, to be apart of the hazy chaos in the room.

It was a few minutes later, Zayn could no longer hear Louis talking, and he glanced over to the older man only to find him staring at something across the room. The raven haired man finished cleaning the glass he’d been handed, setting it in its rightful place before approaching his still gaping friend.

“Cat got your tongue Tommo, or did you finally run out of things to talk about,” Zayn teased, watching curiously as his friend became suddenly flustered. The younger man shook his head slightly, turning his back to the cabinet once again to continue washing the empty glasses. Calum, one of his employees, slid a few more of the sticky cups in his direction, offering him a brief nod before turning to stumble back into the crowd. Zayn sighed lightly, focused on scrubbing the lipstick stains and greasy fingerprints from the glassware; Louis cleared his throat in the background.

“Excuse me sir, don’t mean to bother you, but I’m looking for the owner,” another voice called, the sound of a barstool scraping against the floor echoing past the quiet chatter from the other customers. Zayn dried his hands quickly, turning to answer to whatever the man needed. He was met by the sight of another familiar frame; a blonde mop of hair with brown roots, and a pair of startling crystal blue eyes staring back at him. He watched as a quiet smirk crept onto the younger man’s features, that same frozen gaze scanning up his body. 

“Niall,” Zayn breathed, the sudden jumble of emotions causing his voice to quiver. 

“I didn’t expect to see you behind the counter,” the blonde joked, “isn’t the owner supposed to be sitting in the corner watching everybody else while his bar monkeys bring him whiskey?”

Louis’s mouth had long since dropped open, his eyes switching between the two men as if he were watching a tennis match. The brunette mustered something to the effect of a highly uncomfortable um, clearing his throat as Zayn’s voice stuck to the back of his tongue. The amber eyed man was met with a flurry of images, remembrance of sloppy kisses to the neck and whispered promises lost in the night. He fought for his mouth to do something, but it continued to do a whole lot of nothing while his body wracked through vicious waves of emotions. It had been six years since he’d last seen the blonde, and he remembered that last night as if it were merely a few days ago.

He couldn’t breath properly.

“What are you doing here,” Louis spat, trying in vane to pull the blonde’s attention away from Zayn for moment. It didn’t work of course, Niall’s eyes remained locked to the older man’s as he parted his lips.

“Thought I’d stop by, figured an anniversary was just as good as any other time to drop in,” he mused, tilting his head slightly as his fingertips danced across the countertop. Zayn’s mouth was suddenly very dry, and he was’t exactly sure what parts of his body were connected to which as the set of icy blues dismembered him and put him back together with a simple bat of a lash. 

“Anniversary,” Zayn mumbled, sounding much like an enamored child around their first crush. 

This was not his first crush, his subconscious hissed.

“I was hoping you’d have time to talk actually,” Niall said, chuckling nervously as he ran his palm against the back of his neck, “it’s been a few years since I’ve seen you-“

“Six,” Zayn interrupted.

“Right, six, and I had a lot of things I wanted to tell you,” he breathed, coughing lightly as his voice began to trail off into that soft sounding whisper he only spoke in when he was trying to remain calm. Zayn remembered this, along with a lot of other strange habits and mannerisms that he’d tried, but couldn’t quite seem to erase from his memory.

He had to wrack his brain for what they’d been talking about.

“Well, I actually-um-I actually have to, to work for-“

“Oh for the love of God Malik, go with him before the tension explodes the building will you please,” Louis snapped, rolling his eyes obnoxiously as he scoffed towards the pair. Zayn felt a blush creep onto his cheeks as his chest gave a nervous flutter, and he noticed Niall swallowing heavily.

“I can’t just leave and-“

‘In case you’re forgetting, I worked here for three horrible years. I think I can mix a couple of drinks for people who are already drunk, because there is no way in hell you are staying in this building another minute.”

“But what about closing and-“

“Calum and Michael can help me with whatever I need, so stop making up lame excuses and just go,” he pleaded, hopping from his stool to come around the countertop. Niall was gnawing on his lower lip so viciously that Zayn was positive it was going to start bleeding, and he himself felt extremely light headed about the whole ordeal. The older man tossed him his coat from the rack, putting out his hand for the younger to place the apron in. He stood there, frozen as Louis wrapped the fabric around his narrow hips.

“Go do something reckless,” he whispered to the raven haired man, squeezing his side haphazardly before giving him a gentle shove in the right direction. His feet somehow managed to carry him around the counter as he shrugged his coat over his shoulders, taking the moment of privacy to suck in a nervous breath. He landed in front of a now-standing blonde, an indecent amount of space left between them. Zayn could swear he was being electrocuted, everything from the tips of his toes to the top of his scalp buzzing with current. Niall took a shaky breath in, forcing a smile as he nodded towards the door.

“Shall we,” he managed, waiting for the other to reply before taking a step in that direction. It was as if the two of them could not believe the other was standing in front of them, and were taking in every second until it was over.

“Where are we going?”

A shrug.

“You still live in that apartment a few blocks away?”

Oh, a place that didn’t have any other people around-

Zayn gulped, nodding shortly in hopes that perhaps the blonde hadn’t noticed.

He had of course, Niall was making it his responsibility to notice everything about the older man for the remainder of the evening. Then they were walking, and the blonde almost put his hand against Zayn’s lower back to lead him out the door. The older man caught it out of the corner of his eye, the habitual twitch of the blonde’s hand. He had to grin then, because even after all of these years, Niall was still trying to be overprotective. He shook off the grin, shrouding it by pretending he was simply shivering. He was not about to let the blonde manipulate him again; he couldn’t go through what he went through last time. It was with that notion that he set his jaw firmly, pacing into the wind and towards his apartment with the younger man traipsing along behind him.

*************************************************************************************************************

Neither of them struck up any conversation on the short walk over, the silence being filled with sounds of horns honking and the feeling of a brisk wind in their faces. Even though it was only late August, the temperatures in downtown Chicago had dropped into the low forties, sometimes thirties at night. This led everyone to walk everywhere quickly, not wanting to be out in the cold for any longer than need be. Zayn however, was taking the pace a little slower, afraid of just what was going to happen once they reached his apartment.

He didn’t have much time to ponder the idea, as they reached the large brick building within five minutes of leaving the bar. Niall followed the older man up several flights of steps, waiting patiently as he fumbled the key out of his pocket and slid it into the lock. They stumbled inside together, Zayn’s fingers flipping the light switch closest to him as he hung his key on its hook. The blonde closed the door behind them, leaning against it awkwardly as he waited for the other to remove his coat. The older man was stalling by then, quite obviously, for once he dropped the coat, there would be nothing to cover his shaking hands or the fact that he hadn’t taken in a proper breath since they’d entered the building.

“Looks exactly like it did when I left,” Niall chuckled, running his fingers against the frame of the door. He took in everything about the place, the familiarity of it soaking into his skin, even though there was nothing familiar about the current situation. “You, however, you look nothing the same.”

Zayn laughed nervously, hoping that the remark was more of a compliment than an insult. Niall noticed as if for the first time the man standing before him, really looking at him now. He knew it had been six years, but he didn’t realize how much time that really was until he was surveying Zayn’s change of appearance. He’d lost a lot of weight, none of it in places he’d needed to. His face was thinner, the prominence of his jawline and cheekbones much more evident than it had been. He was taller, covered in more ink, and his eyes had lost the hopeful glimmer that Niall had always loved about the amber colored orbs. He felt like an intruder here, standing in a strangers home, hoping that he would’ve found the words to say to Zayn by now-

But all he could do was stare. That, and try not to babble helplessly.  
  “What really brings you into town,” Zayn tried, leaning his hips against the back of his sofa, a manageable distance away from the blue eyed man still perched at the front door.

“I was homesick,” he admitted, “I missed the city, my family, you-“

Oh.

“So, you’re just visiting then,” Zayn inquired, his eyes scanning the seams of the piece of furniture with sudden interest; anything to keep his eyes away from the younger man’s.

“Perhaps. However, I’ve been everywhere I’ve ever wanted to go, for the most part anyway, and the idea of settling in somewhere sounds kind of nice. I’ve always had a soft spot for Chicago you know.”

“I know,” the older man breathed. Zayn tried his best to ignore the hopeful squeeze of his chest.

Niall cautiously pushed away from the door, keeping his eyes on the raven haired man as he removed his jacket and set it aside. He paused for a moment, contemplating the safest move, and decidedly taking a step towards Zayn. He sighed as the older man flinched, stepping away from the couch and pacing towards the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything,” he called, cursing himself for avoiding any real confrontation. They both knew that there were things that needed to be discussed: Niall’s travels, what he’d been doing the past few years-

The fact that he’d left the night after Zayn told the blonde he loved him more than anything else in this world.

“I’ll take a something to drink,” he said, following the older man into the other room. The raven haired man busied himself with glasses, breaking into his stash of alcohol he kept for special occasions. He eventually slid the mixed drink in Niall’s direction, taking a large swig of his in hopes that it would make its way into his bloodstream-

He needed the extra confidence. 

“You used to hate Daiquiris,” the blonde chuckled against the edge of his glass, watching as Zayn shrugged nonchalantly and swirled the beverage. 

“My taste buds have matured I guess,” he mused. This wasn’t entirely true, he had just built up a liking for the beverages after finding that they were the blonde’s favorite. All these years later, they grudgingly remained in his top five favorite drinks to make and intake himself. He continued to sip tentatively at the refreshment, taking the opportunity to occupy his mouth as much as possible.

If awkward was a person, its name would be Zayn Malik.

“So,” Niall tried, “is there any reason other than the elephant in the room that you’re trying to avoid speaking with me?”

Zayn shook his head lightly, clenching his jaw as he stared into the suddenly less appealing drink in hand. The younger huffed sharply.

“I can’t change the past you know,” the blonde mused, sounding almost as if he were trying to apologize. Zayn bit the inside of his lip harshly, chanting a chorus of don’t you dare cry over and over in his mind.

“And I can never get back the time I gave you,” the older spat, “so I guess we’re both at a loss here.”

Niall ground his teeth together.

“God dammit Zayn, if you want me to take back following my dreams like you knew I was going to, I can’t do that. If that’s all you want from me is some stupid apology for something I told you in the beginning was going to happen, then you’re going to die with one matter unresolved.”

Zayn glared at him harshly, placing his glass on the counter before he did something stupid with it. He gripped the edge of the granite tightly, fighting the urge to scream at the younger. He was right, he was always right about these kinds of things. Zayn had allowed himself to fall for someone who was already gone, and it was his own fault.

But Jesus, how could he possibly have kept himself for tumbling head first?

“I’ve been everywhere Zayn; New York, Paris, Los Angeles, Tokyo, I’ve seen the world, and all of the people in it, and for six god damn years I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

Niall was yelling by then, all of the hurt he’d put himself through bubbling over and escaping in form of words. Zayn looked like he was about to collapse, the only thing keeping him upright being his grip on the countertop.

Neither of them were breathing.

Zayn dared a glance at the younger, allowing himself to drink in his appearance for a few moments. His hair was longer than the last time they’d seen each other, his roots showing a lot more brown than he’d usually let slide. He looked more mature, not older necessarily, but his eyes were calmer, suggesting that he’d been through a little more than just partying and sailing high the past few years. He wasn’t as lean as before, packing on more muscle in all the right places, and he’d acquired a sense of style-

That, or he was trying to impress the older man with his expensive taste in clothing. 

It was definitely working.

“I’m not upset with you for leaving,” Zayn breathed, stopping his mind from spinning with thoughts of the blonde, “I’m upset because I gave you everything, everything, I loved you, and you didn’t even have the balls to say goodbye. I never got a phone call, or a letter, anything that would’ve let me know where you were or how you were doing. For all I knew you’d died in Finland, or gotten married and started a family somewhere in Canada. Then you show up in my bar over half a decade later, expecting what Niall? That I hadn’t gotten over you? That I hadn’t moved on?”

“You said loved, as in past tense,” the blonde pointed out.

“But what hurt worse than any of that,” Zayn yelped, ignoring the comment, “was the fact that you left without me. Nothing held me here besides you, and you couldn’t come up with the decency to ask if I wanted to come with you. I thought you loved me too, wanted me to be with you; I guess I was wrong.”

Niall opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came up. There was no good excuse for that, except the truth-

And he did not plan on sharing that anytime soon.

Zayn crossed his arms then, taking a few tentative steps towards the younger with a stern expression. Niall told himself not to shrink, not to flinch away as the inked man stood towering over him. He would hold his ground, and he would not waver for a second.

Or at least that was the plan.

“You’re not a cold hearted person, never have been, never will be. So, Horan, care to explain why you were running scared,” Zayn mused, forcing down a victorious grin as Niall’s eyes widened. 

He’d hit it right on the nose. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Niall retorted, mentally patting himself on the back for the lack of quiver in his voice. He tried to keep his eyes trained on Zayn’s, although gravity seemed to be dragging them to a spot a few inches lower.

Stop, he told himself.

“Of course you don’t. Do you think I’ve just forgotten everything that happened between us? Maybe you have, but there’s no amount of time that could ever lead me to forget those moments. All those late nights you spent here, repeating over and over that you needed to leave. Just one more kiss, one more go around of my fingers on your skin. You expect me to believe that all of those feelings disappeared the moment I pronounced my feelings for you? You never were good at bluffing Ni,” Zayn teased, laying one hand against his waist and the other against the counter top beside him. Niall gulped nervously.

“What do you want me to say,” the blonde hissed, his body shying away from the older man’s. Vulnerability had never been his strong suit.

“The truth.”

Christ.

Why did he feel like there was no escaping this?

“You know what, you’re right. Is that all you needed to hear?”

“What am I right about again,” Zayn asked, a defiant grin etched onto his features. Niall huffed in frustration, swallowing hard before breathing in twenty seconds of insane courage.

“I didn’t ask you to come with me because this was supposed to be my life, I had never planned to trip and fall for anyone or anything along the way. After I left, I felt terrible for not saying goodbye or doing something, all I wanted was to see you one last time, but I convinced myself that if I let it go and didn’t contact you I would get over it. I tried everything, I wrote in journals, but they always turned into letters to you. I tried at least a dozen different relationships with people who were polar opposites, but nothing compared to you and that’s ridiculous because there are seven billion other people on this planet and yet I am constantly being pulled towards one. If that’s what love is, I definitely don’t like it, but I’d be damned if I didn’t see you one more time. So here we are, pretending that we aren’t madly in love with each other, and you’re standing much too close to me for my brain to function properly, but now I can remember what your cologne smells like and I just really want to wipe that stupid little grin right off your face, because Jesus fuck Zayn I need you.”

The older man positively blushed, fighting off the impending smirk just a bit longer.

“You couldn’t remember what my cologne smelled like,” he asked.

“Not once I realized I still wanted to. I couldn’t remember that, or what your hair looked like in the morning, or the way your nails felt dragging against my chest when you were trying to annoy me, or the exact color of your eyes when you wanted me, or the color they changed to after you made love to me. I couldn’t remember any of it, but now here we are, and I’ve recalled one of many.”

Zayn suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be nervous about all of this, how the blonde standing in front of him used to make him shake with the fear of saying or doing something too quickly. But he wasn’t scared, and it looked as if the rolls had been reversed as Niall trained his eyes uneasily onto Zayn’s chest. If the rolls really had been switched, that meant-

Oh.

“Are you going to run away again if I tell you I still love you,” Zayn asked, slowly removing his hands from their current positions and using one to swipe a hair that had escaped the blonde’s gelled quiff. He ran his fingers across the side of Niall’s face, trying to remember what it felt like to do this so many years ago

“I’m a grown ass man Zayn, if I run away now I’ll never stop. I’ll have to move to Timbuktu and change my name to something long and confusing so that I won’t be me, and you can stop waiting for me to come back.”

“I love you,” Zayn chided, his heart beating against his ribcage as if it were trying to escape, “and if that means I can’t have you, and you have to move to the farthest corner of the world to escape your irrational fear that love is going to screw up your life, so be it.”

Niall exhaled absentmindedly, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating. Every inch of his body was burning and telling him to turn around and walk out the door forever, but his heart was beating sporadically, and he was the slightest bit nervous that if he left he might fall into cardiac arrest or a crippling depression or some other incurable disease that would lead to his impending death-

And he certainly couldn’t have that.

“If I’m standing here in front of you right now, and this is not in fact some sort of very detailed fantasy I have concocted from my subconscious, then I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, and I’m ready to tuck the past safely away and give you my future everything.”

“Then don’t just stand there staring at me like an idiot,” Zayn sneered teasingly, snaking his arm slowly around the younger mans back. Niall’s hands wound effortlessly around the older man’s neck, and then they were tugging each other just close enough that they could admire the other, taking in every last detail of this moment-

The moment when they both let themselves go.

Niall crashed their lips together hurriedly once he’d gotten quite enough of the tension, parting his lips and pulling himself into the older man so that there was no space left between them. They were a blur of hands and open mouthes, tongues relearning every inch they could manage. Niall tasted strongly of mint and cigarette smoke, a shock to the older as the blonde used to wrinkle his nose when the inked man would light a cigarette. He enjoyed it though, the familiarity of the taste heightening his senses. The room filled with sounds of hungrily suctioning lips and quicker breathing, the occasional sigh or moan flying from the mouths of both men. Zayn pulled away, a low growl emerging from him as he connected his lips to the dip of Niall’s jawline. The blonde moaned a little too loudly as the older man sucked a mark hungrily into his skin, tilting his head to the side as he gripped the ends of Zayn’s hair tightly. After a few more seconds of gratifying noises from the younger, the raven haired man pulled away to blow a breeze of cool air onto the satisfying bruise he’d created so that if Niall suddenly did decide to run off, he would at least remember Zayn for a few more days.

The older man connected their lips back together then, taking the opportunity to bite down on the blonde’s lower lip. Niall was at a loss for words, his brain scrambling for some sort of action, but instead he stood there and took what Zayn was offering. The older man pulled away again, dragging Niall by the collar of his shirt back into the living room, getting him to fall back onto the couch where the raven haired man climbed on top of him. Niall’s body felt as though it had gone into sensory overload the moment the older mans hips were straddling his, a chorus of profanities flying from his lips before they were once again busied with a much more important task. He hated to admit it for fear of sounding self centered, but Zayn knew what he was doing. He knew just the right spots to touch, just the right way to grind his hips, and just the right way to use his mouth-

The older man almost made Niall feel inexperienced.

“I almost forgot what this felt like,” the blonde breathed, trying his best not to pant as Zayn’s nimble fingers went to work undoing the buttons of his shirt. He arched off of the couch to aid the older man in removing the constraining fabric, letting his own hands fiddle with the buttons of Zayn’s shirt as the other man worked on the tie around his neck. Within seconds the pair were chest to chest, and Niall was remembering how nice it felt to have Zayn’s skin against his own. He didn’t have long to enjoy it though, as the older man was already detangling himself to stand up. He offered a hand to the blonde, intertwining their fingers once he took it and pulling him down the hallway. The younger man bounded after him, following the raven haired man into a dark room until he felt a mattress hit his knees. Zayn took the liberty of pressing him back onto it, crawling on top of him once again only to reconnect their lips. Niall tried to remember what he was saying earlier when he was interrupted by a hand on the inside of his thigh.

“Fuck, shit,” he hissed, letting out a high pitched moan as Zayn palmed him through his jeans.

“I thought you said you’d done this while you were traveling,” the older man teased, pressing featherlight kisses into the blonde’s collar bone. He was only slightly confused when the younger man shook his head. 

“I’ve-shit-no, I slept with a few different people, but do not ever put yourself in the same category as any of my quick shags. This is totally different from that, in the sense that this feels so many thousands of times better.”

“It’s because you love me, remember,” Zayn teased, letting his hot breath scatter across Niall’s chest. The younger man ahed at that, squeezing his eyes shut firmly as goosebumps rose against his skin.

“Yes yes I remember, how could I forget. Now if you would please finish what we started I would love you a lot more.”

Zayn hummed in agreeance.

And in the end they picked up right where they left off, not only in that moment, but from that night six years ago. The only difference was, Zayn wasn’t the only one openly admitting his feelings; it was both of them, repeatedly throughout the rest of the night, and the night after that, and all of the mornings that Niall woke up next to him. He felt as if it was his obligation to constantly be reminding the older man of those three little words, a reminder that he was going to be sticking around for as long as he could manage. Niall never made any promise that he could be there forever, because forever was impossible, but he promised every current second he had-

And that was enough for the both of them.


End file.
